How to Say I Love You
by Alaena Night
Summary: [IchiRuki] Oneshot collection. [7: Until We Meet Again] He carved his name first, and then she took the knife, carving hers just beneath his. Then he wrapped a heart gently around the both of them, a promise that they'd meet again.
1. How to Say I Love You

**How to Say I Love You**

_— Because sometimes, words aren't required to express what lives in one's heart. —_

**Disclaimer/Notes: **For this and any chapters that follow, I do not own Bleach, and can only hope to do its characters a small measure of the justice they deserve. Anyway, I've been having a lot of ideas, not all of which can be put in my other collection, and I decided it would be best to find a place to keep the products of my IchiRuki obsession. The title of this oneshot will be the title for the whole collection, because I think that Ichigo and Rukia say a lot without actually saying anything. Though they may not voice their feelings, I like to think they show them through their actions.

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If Kurosaki Ichigo had learned one thing in his extensive amount of time with Rukia, it was this:

When her usually tranquil sapphire-violet eyes took on the tint of steely blue, it was time to shut up, step back, and _stay out of her way. _However, his common sense had been on an extended vacation since he'd entered high school, so when she looked at him with a gaze that could effortlessly split a block of steel, he stared blankly back, letting a dry smile curve his features.

"Good evening, Rukia," he said, bowing slightly, almost mockingly, as his smile grew.

It almost would have been a normal reunion if the hand that stretched across his abdomen was not covered in his own blood. It would have been normal if his zanpakutou was not dropped carelessly in the red-specked grass beside him, and if the garish illumination of streetlights was not the only illumination on the two people who faced off stiffly in the middle of an empty street.

Unfortunately, Ichigo could not really think of a time when he and Rukia had experienced any sort of normal reunion.

"The pavement," Rukia growled irritably.

Ichigo raised his eyebrows.

"You are _bleeding_ on the pavement."

He grinned. "Oh! That. Nothing serious."

He stumbled just a bit and Rukia's scowl deepened. He thought it a shame because she looked much better smiling.

"Fool," she murmured. "Reckless fool. You allowed yourself to become distracted—"

"_You_ distracted me!" Ichigo interjected mercilessly. "You shoulda called or something! Let me know when you're gonna pop outta _nowhere _while I'm fighting hollows!"

"—_And _you allowed yourself to be _injured_—"

"The hollow did the injuring. Not like I said, '_Bite me, bastard_,' or something," Ichigo intoned dryly.

Rukia's heated expression didn't waver. "Hot-headed as ever," she huffed. As she picked Zangetsu off of the ground and returned the blade to Ichigo, she straightened her face and spoke softly. "What's done is done. Come on. You kept those bandages under your bed?" Ichigo nodded affirmative. "Good. Then I'll fix you up."

"I'm not a—"

"Yes, you are a child, Ichigo. Now come. I don't care if you bleed to death but you're not going to do it right here. Wouldn't look good on my record."

"What record?"

"The How-Many-Idiots-Have-Died-On-My-Watch record," she uttered testily.

Wisely, Ichigo didn't question her further. She half-pushed him through his own window and put a towel beneath him so his sisters wouldn't run inside to find him sleeping under blood-soaked blankets. She pulled the old roll of bandages from beneath his bed—placed there because she just _knew _there'd be times like this—and wandered to the nearby bathroom to grab some antiseptic and other things from the emergency kit Isshin insisted be kept there.

Rukia smiled twistedly. It was almost as if that nutty doctor _knew_.

"What's taking you so long?" Ichigo called. As an afterthought, she snagged the entire kit and wandered back in. Ichigo pushed himself up in the bed.

"Sit," she ordered, pushing him down with a firm grip on his shoulder. "I'm technically not supposed to be here and you've grabbed enough attention as it is, so I'll use a limited amount of kidou to close the wound, but I'll bandage it anyway. Knowing you, you'll find some way or another to reopen it." Surprisingly, he didn't argue. She eyed the bloodied cloth of his shirt and jerked her head in its direction. "Take your shirt off." Opening the box, she pulled out a few items and lined them up on the blankets.

"I got it from here," he murmured.

Without so much as a pause, she sweetly replied, "No you don't." At his immediate disagreement, Rukia continued, "You said I got you into this, right? The least I can do is make sure you get out of it alive. Take your shirt off," she repeated. "I'm not leaving. Your tough guy act is out of the question."

"Rukia," he said firmly.

"No buts. Come on. You want Yuzu or Karin to wake up?" She took his grumpy silence for an affirmative. "Then hurry it up."

She heard murmured swearing, but without as much fervor as she was used to. This was more like disgust and resignation. Ichigo sat up slowly and peeled the bloodied article away, expertly flicking it into the wastebasket. He'd probably retrieve it and try to wash the blood out in the morning. Looking down at nothing in particular, Ichigo did not meet her gaze.

Her eyes wandered over several long scars across his chest. She tried to bite her tongue, knowing questioning would only bother him more, but the words slipped out on accident. "Are those from...?"

He didn't answer aloud, but he nodded as a twisted, self-reproachful smile curved his face. Finally, he whispered, "Yeah. Soul Society. Lotsa memories there."

The softness on her face melted to a wry, humorless smile. "You'd be mad, then, if I apologized?"

He winced as he sat forward. "Hell yeah. Heard enough of your apologies. Not like you made me go or anything. Actually, if memory serves, you threatened violent death and such if I ventured a look-see." He leaned forward. "It's just weird...you seeing them." With an effort, he perked up. "But c'mon, it's like a signed t-shirt! All my new friends left their signatures." He pointed to the largest scar. "That one's Kenpachi." Then to another mark, "Renji." Another...and another...and another—too many. "And your brother left _those_. See? A veritable map of my journeys."

Rukia's eyebrows knit and she gave him a sad smile. "You're so stupid," she said. But she cleared her throat and blinked her eyes while Ichigo laid flat out on the towel beneath him, and with care, she closed the edges of the wound, cleaning away excess blood while he rested there, arms stretched behind his head casually.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, barely audible above the warm hum emanating from the healing light. "Don't look like that, Rukia," he said. "I hope you know...you're _stupid_ for being all serious about this when I'm not that way at all. I don't regret it. Not one bit of it." He smirked, staring into her eyes until he coaxed the sharp expression from her face. He nodded firmly and closed his eyes again. "Good."

Shaking her head, Rukia smiled faintly. "Just shut up and stay still," she said, even though she knew her words held no conviction.

When the glow of kidou faded from her hands, Ichigo looked up. "So...welcome back and all that."

She looked at him like he was crazy, which was probably not a mistaken assumption.

"Welcome back," he repeated slowly. "I mean...I forgot to say it earlier. I'm glad you're here."

She didn't reply, but her lips curled into a smile beneath the mess of charcoal bangs. She looked at him with gentle eyes.

It was enough for both of them. "Sooo..." he said. "How's it been going over there?"

"As good as can be expected. How are your sisters? Your father; Ishida, Inoue-san?"

"Alive," he replied.

"Good." Teeth bit tenderly at her lip. She was on his bed, less than a few inches from him, and this realization slowly colored her cheeks. What made her blush even more was the fact that it felt natural, and the overwhelming urge to curl up next to him. She bit her lip hard enough to snap back to reality, and stood.

"I'm going to bed, Ichigo," she said abruptly, grateful for the wild locks of her hair as they fell over his face, hiding the furious pink of her cheeks. She brushed off imaginary lint and occupied herself with doing things that had no need at all to be done, but she did them anyway because it gave her time to clear her mind.

If he said anything, God help her, she'd knock him senseless.

That thought cleared her mind surprisingly well.

He spoke quietly. "Hey, Rukia." And darn if she didn't love the way he said her name. "The closet's ready for you."

At that, she laughed. She quietly slipped the door open to find everything as it had always been. He'd made the bed and left a pillow there, and atop the blanket was a little pair of pajamas. She was tempted to tell him that she'd grow taller one of these days and would need her own clothes, but that didn't matter. He'd kept it there, just like he always did, in a silent promise that he'd be waiting for her, that he believed she'd always come back.

"Rukia?"

She bit her lip to hold back a smile at the heartbreaking familiarity of it all.

If she didn't know better, she would have called this place a home. She would have believed that such a comfort and perfection could only mean that she should stay forever in this place that showed her all the feelings she'd never felt when she was little. But Kuchiki Rukia, shinigami, _did _know better. Her home was in Soul Society, and forever would be. She swallowed the traces of her emotion and barely turned. "It's late. Get some sleep, fool."

He snorted. "Idiot."

And it didn't matter at all because those were the words that said all the things they couldn't.

She crawled under the blankets, curling into the soft fabric with the light of the moon slipping through the slatted door in lines across her face and the sound of his soft breath tickling her ears.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **If the part when Ichigo is hurt is confusing, in the manga, it says that any injuries sustained in soul form will remain when returning to one's own body. Anyway...I hope that this was okay! I have to say...I had an inexpressable amount of fun writing this, especially the beginning. The way those two talk to each other never ceases to get a smile out of me! **Pretty Please Review?**


	2. Anywhere With You

**Anywhere With You  
**

**Note: **Some more IchiRuki! I got this insane idea while trying to work out of my writer's block on another story, because the thought of Ichigo and Rukia playing around on the high walls of Seireitei made me laugh. This is the first and only time I will ever say this, but... **Yay for writer's block! **Also...just in case it's confusing to anyone; shunpou (or flash step) is a shinigami technique. This is placed sometime post-Soul Society arc.

**

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**

"It's all stone walls," she said. "In Seireitei...there's nothing but cold stone. Nothing is alive. We're the center of this place—we're its heart, and yet we're the only place that barely beats with life."

This from the lips of Kuchiki Rukia, shinigami, as her bare feet swung in the air, then hit against the solid stone of her perch. Swiping a charcoal lock of hair away from her face, she laughed.

It was a dry laugh, mocking and sad. He'd never understood her sense of humor.

"Look. It's prettiest before sunrise." She paused, and the sad look melted from her face, replaced with an almost playful hint of a smile. "And sit down before you _fall_ down! I won't be the one scraping you off the street when you take a dive, I hope you know."

Again her feet swung, rhythmically absentminded, against the wall, meeting only thin air before they rested. A breeze ruffled her robes, coming from beneath and lifting the black cloth up over her ankles. Hair swirled lazily about her head.

Before them, for miles and miles, Rukongai spread out, marked by green grass and pale brown huts. Sometimes a very small river or brook would break the monotony, along with the occasional spattering of trees. If they were a hundred feet closer to the ground, they might have been able to hear the laughter of children playing in the closest districts.

"Don't you think this is a stupid idea?" Ichigo asked, very carefully lowering himself to a sitting position. "This is what—a few feet wide? Maybe a bit more? And if we fall, we've got all of about three hundred feet before we make pavement pancakes. Hey, did you realize there's no gate leading out onto this portion of the wall? If I remember correctly, we climbed over the wall of a _guard station_."

"Since when did you care about whether or not there were doors? If there's not a door, _you_ break a hole in the wall and _make _one, you idiot. Don't lecture me." But she was smiling. She bit her lip and gave him a quick glance. "There," she pointed. "Can you see it? That tree. I've been in Rukongai a few times, and I've never seen one as big as that. I used to climb it."

"You miss it?"

She knew he wasn't talking about the tree.

"I don't regret anything, if that's what you mean. I have some very good friends here. It's a choice I made, to come here."

Yet she still looked sad. Ichigo slowly stood, and made a very big deal out of stretching, making sure to lean back just enough that she'd grab his robes and pull him forward, hissing about stupidity and its consequences, and then gesturing pointedly to the ground far below before glaring into his eyes.

"I know, Rukia. If I fall, you'll leave me to rot. You don't need to repeat it. Anyway, come on."

"Come _where_?" She stood, though.

"You know you and your weird metaphors? Let's make this place beat."

He grabbed her hand so she couldn't run away.

"I don't like the sound of this," Rukia murmured.

"I'll race you. Around the whole wall. Shunpou isn't against the rules, either. In fact, it's encouraged. So, get ready—"

"This is stupid! No way!"

"—get _set_—"

"Ichigo, let go of me _now! _I'll shove you off this wall myself! Let—"

"—go!" Ichigo said. He turned around, a huge grin on his face, just inviting her to slap it off. "Catch me if you can, midget." Then he jumped away. About fifty feet down the wall, she saw him.

"Ohh, you idiot," she murmured, a grin spreading over her face. Then she called to him, "Yeah, you wanna know what? I'll give you a head start. You think I'm helpless? You've got a new thing coming to you! You caught me at my worst when you _took my powers, _you leech! Get ready to meet Kuchiki Rukia, _shinigami!_"

He laughed. "Oh yeah? Prove it!"

She chuckled, unable to help the grin that spread over her face. "I'll give you ten seconds before I catch up and kick your ass! Get moving!"

He waited for a moment, but then he gave her a quick glance. He must have seen she wasn't kidding. He turned, and a few more flash steps brought him out of her rage of vision. Slowly, Rukia counted down, bracing herself eagerly. "Three...two...and—one!"

The guard stations were a bit harder to manage than anything else. If a person did not concentrate, it was very easy to find oneself flattened against one of the raised towers or fallen into one of the sections where the wall was slightly lower. It took her ten seconds to see him. "Hey, Ichigo!" she called, taunting. "You wanna bet I'll beat you? At least you'd make some _money_ out of your humiliation!"

He grinned backwards, oh-so-kindly flipping her off before renewing his efforts at running. "Nope! I'll betcha all the money I have in my pocket that I'll beat you to the finish line."

"Your loss."

She supposed it was a very cruel twist of the knife, but if she was honest, she hadn't been going as fast as she could. A few steps brought her up behind him. Black hair whipping about a maliciously grinning face, she tapped his shoulder. "Hi."

He swore loudly.

What she really wanted was to make him slam into a guard tower. That would be too cruel, though, and she wasn't in the mood to heal broken bones. So she grinned at him with the twisted schoolgirl grin she'd perfected. "I'm gonna win and you're going to owe your life to me, fool."

"Dream on. You're just a little devil with a God complex!"

Oops.

For just a moment, he lost his concentration. The way he shrieked like a girl before falling haphazardly into one of the drop-offs was something she'd hold over him until he died. Rukia landed smoothly, several feet ahead of him on the wall, and continued to run. "You were saying?" she yelled over the whistle of the wind.

She made it two steps before him, and though the difference translated to just a bit less than a second, she was still the undeniable winner. He ignored that for just a second.

"So, you think we got some hearts beating again?"

She raised her eyebrows, suppressing a laugh with a huge amount of effort. "You think we'll ever get out of _jail_ for scaring half the guards to death?"

"That place in Rukongai...that tree. Why don't we go there sometime? If you want to."

She remembered her earlier thoughts, but somehow, they felt more distant than the years that had torn her away from that past. "Doesn't matter anymore. And...thanks."

Though she didn't voice her thoughts, she believed that pretty much any place would be alive when he was there. It sounded frighteningly corny even in her own mind, but that stupid death-defying fool really _did_ have a way of snapping people to attention. Half of Soul Society would recognize the name of the stubborn, orange-haired ryoka who'd turned Seireitei upside-down on his first visit. The other half wouldn't recognize his name, but knew him by face, anyway.

"If you keep stirring things up, you'll find yourself in a big mess," she said, and after a brief moment, extended her hand.

"Huh?"

"Money. You owe me money. I won."

He frowned, digging into his pockets. Then he grinned. "Oops. I forgot...I don't have a cent on me. If I remember correctly, I promised you only what I had in my pockets."

Rukia crossed her arms. "Suuure." After a moment, her self-satisfied grin returned. "That's not how we do things here, though. You know what happens when a man can't pay his debts?"

Ichigo stepped back just a bit.

"Yep. You're all _mine _until I decide you've paid up."

"No way!"

"And you gotta call me Master."

He shook his head. "Never."

Ichigo had to admit, though...he found it quite amusing how wide Byakuya's eyes went when the sixth division's captain saw Ichigo trailing behind Rukia, scampering to catch up.

"Faster!" she ordered.

Ichigo thought Byakuya would be forever traumatized when his servile reply was, "Yes, Master."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Insane? Oh yes. Random? Slightly. While writing one scene to another story, this idea attacked me. Brutally. So I couldn't help writing it. Do I actually believe Ichigo would follow along with Rukia's debt payment plan? Well...only if it involved freaking out her stuck-up brother. I also think that Ichigo wouldn't hesitate to do something crazy to snap Rukia out of a bad mood. Anyway, I hope this was okay! Any thoughts at all would be loved to death. **Please Review?**


	3. Ask Me No Questions

**Ask Me No Questions**

_Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies._

**Disclaimer/Notes:** Ichigo would never admit what he really thinks of Rukia, right? Right. Except...maybe, to someone he knew wouldn't tell. I mean...he's gotta have a lot to say, and I figure he'd go a little nuts if he didn't tell _someone. _So this is what I came up with. Here's Ichigo up close and personal on his thoughts about Rukia...

* * *

"I'll tell ya," he said. "But only if you promise to keep it a secret."

Peeking up from under a mess of fiery hair, Kurosaki Ichigo examined the child sitting across from him. She was probably a few years younger than he was, maybe twelve years old, and small for her age, so her feet didn't even touch the ground as they both rested atop the raised concrete wall on the outskirts of Karakura park.

The girl looked at him, dark brown ringlet curls jolting gently with the movement. "There's no one to tell," she said lightheartedly, kicking her feet against the wall. The rubber soles of her white sandals just sent them bouncing back up. Brown eyes examined him from beneath a curtain of molasses-colored curls. "So... what is it, then?" The smile returned to her face. "Tell me your secret! I promise I won't tell anyone."

And he felt guilty. _God, _but he felt guilty. Because this obliviously smiling child was not a normal child. She was a spirit who had died just outside of the park. She hadn't bothered him with the details, but from what he'd heard, she had been killed by her father. When she smiled, it made everything worse. Such a strong girl... he couldn't forgive himself for letting her down. Not when so many others had.

"Well..." Ichigo glanced left and right, making sure no one was within earshot. At last, he looked back to the little girl, who had clasped her hands eagerly over the soft pink of her dress. He sighed, fidgeting with his fingers. "There's...this girl..."

"Ichi has a girlfriend!" the child cried, bouncing joyously. "What's her _name?_"

"I—wait a minute! I never said that she was my girlfriend!" Ichigo's expression was reminiscent of a cornered rabbit, causing the girl to laugh and kick her feet harder against the wall.

"Name, _name!_ Tell me her name," she giggled.

Ichigo looked at the young one beside him, at the way her eyes were riveted only on him, at the impish delight that lit her features, and he couldn't say no. She reminded him too much of his sisters.

"Her—her name... is Rukia," he said.

As innocent as a lamb, the girl pursed her little pink lips and grinned in silence for a while. Suddenly she swung to view him, and all those curls went crazy, bouncing as joyously as the child herself did. "So, is she _pretty?_"

Ichigo jumped and sputtered a little, then angrily pointed a finger at the girl, whose tiny hand gripped it gently in return.

"Sooo?"

"N—no! She's...not pretty at all. Not one bit!"

The girl thought for a moment. "Yeah she is. I can tell, you know. Your face is pink."

"It is not!"

She laughed and smiled, and Ichigo wondered why she'd had to die. She and Yuzu would have gotten along so well.

"Maybe just a little bit. She's real small, though. And she's...got this black hair. Blue eyes, real dark, like...I dunno, something dark. Sapphire. And she's...she helped me out. Almost died. She must've drunk a gallon of stupid, because if I was her, I never would have helped _me. _But...because of her, my family is alive."

The little girl was bouncing with even more enthusiasm than before. "She sounds so sweet!"

"Well, her drawings are absolutely _horrible,_" Ichigo grumbled.

"But you really like her, right?"

"Damn it, no! She's just... I'm just..._grateful. _I'm grateful to her for helping me. She didn't have to do something like that, like what she did. You know...I was gonna be killed, but she stood in front of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was bleeding all over. But..." Ichigo shook his head. "But she looked absolutely...perfect, even then." Ichigo slammed a fist against the concrete beneath him. "I should tell her to shove that shinigami crap. I don't know why I let her stay. And...I don't know why she stays."

The girl laughed.

"What's so funny? Stop that! She's just a tiny tyrant with absolutely no knowledge at all of how the real world works. I..." Surely the girl didn't miss the smile that slowly quirked his lips. "She was trying to open a juice box this one time. This girl can kill hollows without batting an eye, stand up to any guy in class, and even act her way out of a paper bag. So it's funny to see her like that, jabbing mindlessly at a juice box... But when she doesn't think I'm looking, in her eyes..."

"What?" the girl asked softly.

"Pain," Ichigo said. "So much pain and sadness. You know, she reminds me_ so _much... of myself. I hate that. Hate it. I know that there are things she's been though, things I can't even begin to understand. I wish, somehow, that maybe I could help just a little, 'cause she's helped me so much." He scuffed the soles of his tennis shoes against the concrete, clenching and unclenching his fists as the rubber slid mercilessly against rough stone.

"You think maybe you helped her and you don't know it?"

Ichigo laughed dryly. "Me, help her? I don't think I ever could. But I feel like I could trust her. Tell her anything. I just can't, though. she's got enough on her mind. And hey, did you know that healing kidou is warm?"

"Ki-_what?" _the girl cocked her head curiously.

"Oh, a shinigami thing. Did I mention that Rukia was a shinigami? She gave me her powers, too, something else I owe her for. She healed me a while ago. I was conscious just a little bit, and it felt like sunlight. That's how she is, though, so I'm not surprised."

"How do you mean?"

"I dunno. Bright. She's like... even when it's raining, I swear it's got nothing on me. She's...she's just..." He sighed, and that sent the girl into another giggle fit.

"Ichi's in love!" she said.

"It's not anything like that!" His voice was less firm than it had been before, though. After a moment, he grumbled and admitted something. "Everyone's spouting that sorta stuff around school, though, like we're a couple or something. It's downright annoying! I wish they'd just shut up. I could beat Keigo to a pulp..."

"But you're blushing. Is it true, then? That you're a couple?"

Ichigo quirked a smile at her and shook his head. "Nah, never. The only time she gets near me is when she's gonna beat me up. And she's darn good at it for someone so small, you know. Then she goes and shows this merciful, kind side...as opposed to her usual icy evilness—I swear it; she has multiple personalities. Sometimes, I wish that hollows and shinigami didn't exist at all, you know? Yuzu and Karin...and Dad...because of the work I do, they're in danger. But..."

The girl sat there in silence for several moments. "But?" she said gently.

A pause stretched out the time between them, and Ichigo spoke grudgingly yet softly, "But I can't imagine the world without her in it."

The only sound for several moments was the soft _tap, tap _of the girl's sandals against the wall. "Then make sure of it," she said.

"Of what?"

"That you keep her safe, no matter what. That you're there for her."

For once, Ichigo didn't blatantly deny anything. He didn't speak at all, in fact. After several long moments, he shoved off the wall and landed on his feet. "Thanks." He extended his hand to help the girl down, but she shook her head. "I'll just sit here."

He nodded.

Rhythmic footsteps pounded distantly against the sidewalk, and Ichigo heard a familiar voice calling his name. Still wearing school uniform, along with a lopsided backpack (she still hadn't learned how to wear one of them), Rukia bounded up to him, poking a finger accusingly—and breathlessly—into his chest when she stopped. "I..._thought_ you said there was a konso to perform in this park. It's been half an hour! What the heck have you been up to? I was thinking you'd gotten your ass in trouble, eaten by a hollow or something, you fool!"

The little girl swung her feet a little and grabbed Ichigo by the ear, pulling him close. "She sounds like your wife or something," and then punctuated it with a giggle. The girl's eyes suddenly widened, and she turned happily to Rukia. "Are you _her?_"

Rukia turned to the girl and gave her a pleasant, if semi-confused smile. "Am I who?"

"The one Ichi was _talking—_"

Eyes wide, Ichigo clapped a hand over the spirit girl's mouth. "Talking to!" he said. "She must have seen us talking outside of the park!"

Underneath his hand, the girl laughed and mumbled incoherently while shaking her head. She gripped his hand and attempted to pull it away.

_So much for not telling anyone._

Ichigo gave the child a pointed stare.

"Hey, if you're going to give her a soul burial, you've gotta take you hand off her mouth, Ichigo," Rukia informed him dryly.

"I—but—!" Ichigo growled. "Come on... can't you keep quiet?"

The girl shrugged, and Ichigo hesitantly removed his hand.

"What's a soul burial?" she asked innocently.

"You haven't_ told_ her about it?"

"Nah, we were talking about _other_ things!" The girl laughingly pressed a finger to her lips and made a loud _shhh _sound. "Right?"

Rukia looked between the two with mounting confusion. "Well, since he's _neglecting his duties _as a substitute, I'll explain. A soul burial, or konso, is when—"

"It's when we send you to heaven, so you don't have to stay here any longer," Ichigo explained briefly.

"Soul Society," Rukia rectified. "The concept is similar, but it's not the same."

"Whatever. So, the thing is, we need to send your soul over there. From what I've heard, it's a pretty nice place. It won't hurt at all."

"But..." The girl thought for a moment, eyes running curiously over Rukia. She paused for a moment upon seeing a stuffed lion poke up from the unzipped backpack, but continued quickly, unfazed. "Does that mean that we won't be able to talk anymore, Ichi? I really really wanna hear more about how—"

"Hey! No talking! You can't talk while we do this. And don't worry, you'll make plenty of friends."

The girl jumped off the wall and smiled brightly up at Rukia. "Is healing kidou really warm?"

"What? What are you talking about?" the black-haired shinigami inquired.

"And juice boxes are a lot easier to open if you poke it until you find the soft little hole, you know. It's gonna be on the top."

Rukia quirked an eyebrow at Ichigo, as if to ask what in the world the crazy little kid was talking about.

The crazy little kid in question ran up to Rukia and looked straight up into the face that stared blankly down. "Ooh! Sapphire! He said they looked like sapphires! Soo pretty! You really do have pretty eyes! I don't see any of that whole _icy evilness _thing he was talking about, though. You do seem really sweet!"

Rukia gave Ichigo a questioning look.

"So, Ichi! Are ya gonna tell her? You really should, you know!"

Ichigo leapt forward and grabbed the girl from behind. The girl mumbled through his fingers.

Interest perked, Rukia stepped close, and knelt beside the child. "Tell me what?" she asked ever-so-gently. Then she looked at Ichigo. "Take your hands away or I'll systematically dismember you."

Ichigo glared at her for a while, then stepped back.

"You were saying?" Rukia prompted the child.

"Oh! Just that I think that Ichigo should tell you that he can't imagine the world without—"

As soon as she began speaking, Ichigo frantically skidded in front of the child, grabbing Kon from the backpack, and shoving his hand into the animal's mouth before he could make a single protest. He quickly gulped the pill down. His physical body fell to the ground, and as soon as he became aware that he was in shinigami form, he drew his zanpakutou. "Hey, have fun in Soul Society, kid!"

Quickly landing the sword's hilt on the child's forehead, Ichigo sighed, turning to Rukia. "See, I told ya I'd have it done in no time."

She stared blankly at him.

After several minutes, once he and Kon had been returned to their respective bodies, they began walking home. Rukia stepped in close to Ichigo. "So, you know... what that girl told me was really interesting..."

Ichigo stiffened, stopping in his tracks as she walked on. Had the girl been able to finish while he'd changed to a shinigami? "What did she say?" he blurted. _Oh, how he was going to kill her..._

Wait. She was already dead.

So, he'd kill her again.

A sinister smile slowly spread over Rukia's face.

"What'd she _say?_"

Her grin widened, and she began to hum. Finally she stopped and shrugged. "Oh... nothing, actually. I didn't get to hear. I'm going to get it out of you, though."

"You know, I'd kick you, but I'd feel like a real jerk beating up on a helpless dwarf."

"Oh, helpless, _am I?_"

Her expression promised large amounts of pain.

"Oops."

Ichigo ran.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Well... um... yeah. That's probably the craziest IchiRuki story I've ever written. ...Maybe. Anyway, this was so much fun to write! The more I read and write it, the more I absolutely love the IchiRuki relationship. I also love the way they acted towards each other in the earlier manga chapters. Thus, this story. Anyway, I think it's hilarious that Rukia's always beating up on Ichigo, yet he never really fights back. It's sorta cute. Anyway... **Pretty Please Review? **Reviews are my bread and my water and my whole entire _pathetic existence_.


	4. Dream Catcher

**Dream Catcher**

**Notes:** Because, like any good little fangirl, I wondered, _So, how to get those two in bed together? _Nah, just kidding.This one masquerades itself as serious, but it's really quite fluffy.

* * *

It all started with a few drops of rain just before breakfast, and continued on to become a sprinkle just after lunch. By the time he and Rukia had raced home, screaming and cursing and slipping, they could safely say it was a downpour.

Then a flood. Then a freakin' _monsoon._

By the time Yuzu put the dishes away and ran to bed—she'd always hated lightning—Ichigo imagined that the rain would never stop. It was only just past seven, far before his usual bedtime, but he went to bed anyway. His eyes always felt heavier on days like this, his well-maintained facade of indifference somehow weaker and more translucent. Each time it rained, the beating water seemed to tear old wounds open again.

Days like this were made to sleep through.

Consciousness only teased memories to the surface of his mind. Sleep, of course, did the same, but at least—if he was lucky—he could forget the dreams before he was completely awake. Ichigo finally fell alseep to the steady thrum of the rain and the whisper of a past he wished he could forget.

A familiar cold ache churned and dredged those old memories up, swirling them together into an incomprehensible collage of fragmented remembrances, so that in one moment he was laughing and pulling his mom along, and in another, kissing her goodnight and attempting to wrap his tiny arms around her neck. _"I won't ever let anything happen to you or to daddy or _anyone_, ever!" _And she had smiled back at him, nodding solemnly. _"Of course, little Ichigo."_ She had kissed him on the forehead.

Before he could follow it, another memory washed over him, an early weekend morning when he'd crawled onto her bed and jumped on the springy mattress to wake her to make those cookies she'd promised. He helped her make them. Then that one flickered away, replaced by others.

Her smiling at him.

Him taking her offered hand to lift him to his feet again.

Him cradling her wet hair and tugging at _her_ hand—just like she had done a thousand times—telling her to get up, get up...the rain was falling, and she would get wet if she didn't stand soon. Him staring through eyes that had become foggy with desperate tears and a truth that was becoming harder and harder to deny

Her face, so calm and serene. So cold. Him, begging her to open her eyes. Begging, and begging... and nothing happened.

"Mom!" the choked cry escaped his lips as he jerked upright, barely audible because of the constriction in his throat. The sound of the falling rain returned, along with a feeling of warmth, and suddenly he was sitting up in bed, almost seven years away from that day. Seven years she had been absent from.

His gasps for breath sounded more like sobs, and he slowed his breathing carefully, looking around to make sure his outburst had not disturbed anyone.

And there she was, right beside his bed, perched so naturally atop the desk, her own fingers entwined in his.

"Rukia," he said. He pulled his hand away from hers, letting the tension slide from his body. He stared down at the covers, trying to forget the things that made him feel so weak. At the same time, he felt horrible for trying to push those memories away. Why was it that even the happiest memories were inextricably connected to that day? He allowed his eyes to wander back to Rukia's, which were illuminated by the warm light from the hall.

"You screamed," she said simply, withdrawing the hand that had held his. She must have seen his worried glances at the door, because she said, "You didn't scream _that_ loud. They're still sleeping."

He sighed. "Good. I hate it when I..." His voice trailed off. He bit his lip and spoke again after several moments. "Why are you still up? Shouldn't you be...doing whatever you do?"

She laughed, swinging her feet against the dresser. "This late, I'm usually out luring little boys and feeding them to hollows, but I made an exception. It's raining, you know."

He did know. He swore very firmly to himself, feeling his mask of composure slip just a little more as memories breached the barrier between past and present, flooding into his consciousness in bursts of view that filled the white space the crashing lightning left.

White-blue suddenly exploded through his vision. A fork of lightning split the sky, and when its light faded, every other light did, too. The light in the hall; the warm glow in the next-door neighbor's kitchen. The darkness was almost complete. It took several moments for Ichigo to discern the sharp silhouette of Rukia's face. For just a moment she was completely calm, but then she started.

"Ichigo?"

"Hmm?"

"It's dark."

He sighed. A wonderful end to a wonderful day, right? His eyes tried and failed to adjust to the syrupy blackness, but each time he thought he might just be able to make out a few things, a flash of lightning would take away all the progress he'd gained. Eventually, the lightning became more distant, the thundering roars tamer, until the loudest noises were _her _breathing and his thoughts.

His thoughts. His mind took the sound of the rain and filled the darkness with images so real he felt as if he could reach in front of himself and touch them. He felt his hands begin to shake, because the more the memories clarified, the less he felt bound to the present. Each new memory dragged him farther away from reality and into an even darker place that could not be escaped. It felt like slipping in that damned rain, unable to stand, unable to remain tied to reality as the darkness dragged him into dreams.

"No..." Unaware that he spoke it aloud through sob-like hisses of breath. Unaware that he spoke at all.

Movement jarred the bed he rested on, and he felt those warm fingers slip into his once more. The memories retreated slowly, replaced by the dark night.

She wasn't on the desk anymore. Even in the darkness, he knew that. He felt the minuscule shivers the bed made from where she sat on it. Her fingers, so slender and small, twined into his. They loosened when he opened his eyes. He saw a gentleness and sorrow in her eyes. She tightened her grip.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

He reply was nothing less than he expected. "'Cause if you make noise, I can't get to sleep," she replied.

Rukia was ready to pull her fingers away, but she didn't pull and he didn't, either, so they stayed like that.

"It's dark," she slowly whispered. "Why did the lights go out?"

Ichigo sighed, watering his voice down with the characteristic indifference. "It's because of the storm. Water damage, downed poles...mostly it's just a problem they can fix quickly. The lights will probably be back on in the morning. So go to bed."

And she would have gotten up and trudged back to the closet.

Except she didn't. He felt the light imprint that was her body stretch out beside him, allowing plenty of room, but still dangerously close.

Maybe she was stupid. "...Rukia?"

She yawned. "Hmm?"

"It's... in case you forgot, this is my bed." And she hadn't let go of his hand yet.

"What's your point?"

He tried to think of a point, but couldn't find one. "But...why?" he asked at last.

"Remember that thing about noise? That's your answer. Now go to sleep."

He shuddered violently at the mention of sleep, disguising the instinctive reaction with a shrug. "Not tired."

"Well, I am. So sleep."

Okay, so maybe, _maybe, _just a bit—forget it. He had lied. He was _exhausted_. The moment he closed his eyes, the darkness beckoned. Instinctively, he fought it. Her grip tightened on his hand, and he relaxed, sinking into rest with her fingers twined within his. It was as if, beside him, she guided him away from those memories, like a dreamcatcher.

When the lights came back on in the early morning, Yuzu saw them first, and smiled. Karin followed, and Isshin, inevitably, found the twins in their brother's doorway. He peeked in, eyes widening at the sight.

"My boy has grown into a _man!_" he cried. "A _man, _in just one night. Daddy is sad."

Karin could kick high for her height and her age. Isshin shut up and hopped away, trading his exclamations for pathetic whimpers as Karin very gently slipped the door closed, taking one last glance at her brother and the small woman he embraced. The girl's dark hair contrasted Ichigo's light strands wildly on the pillow they had somehow come to share, the fingers of one hand joined together, while the others simply brushed fingers. Karin smiled. Yeah, she'd leave it to Ichi to work things out when he woke up. It sure would be interesting to see his reaction to waking next to a woman.

But she didn't have any complaints—not about the way things had turned out, and certainly not about the delicate-looking black-haired girl curled across the covers beside Ichigo, even though she had not been too trusting of said girl at first.

She'd never seen her brother sleep so peacefully since that day.

Still standing at the door as she closed it the final crack, she whispered a soft thank you to the dark-haired girl who had returned Ichi's smile. "Sleep well," she said, hiding a smile of her own under the shadow of her cap's brim as she wandered quietly away.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** In the manga, Karin knows about what Ichigo and Rukia are, so I think that she was initially mistrusting, but since she ultimately cares about her older brother, I figured that she might warm up to Rukia a little bit if she saw how she helps Ichigo, and vice versa. My brain has literally been swimming with fanfic ideas, and this is the first one I fished out and made into something slightly readable. I had fun with it, and can only hope that you might have enjoyed reading (even just a _little_). Also, I wanted to thank the people who supported me in writing these. (You guys make my day!) I tried to reply to every review, but I'm very, **_very _**sorry if I forgot anything. I've been here only off and on lately because of the work I am trying to do to get my GED. (I'm really bad with math, so it's taking up a lot of time.) Well...thank you for taking the time to look! Any thoughts would be appreciated. **Please Review?**


	5. Mask of Myself

**Mask Of Myself**

_As I lie tossing in my bed, lost in my fears remembering what you said  
And I try to hide the truth within, the mask of myself shows its face again._

**Disclaimer/Notes: **Don't own Bleach; couldn't dream to. I wrote this after hearing 12 Stones' song, Crash. Don't worry, this isn't a songfic, but the lyrics quoted above are from that track. When I heard it, I could swear that it was written about Ichigo and his hollow. I love the scene inside himself that is shown in the later chapters, when he's fighting for dominance. I love the symbolism, and I love his hollow side! He's so freaking insane! IchiRuki is also good. All three together are much better! So here's some IchiRuki by way of HollowIchigo, with a side of symbolism.

* * *

In his dreams, the _other_ shows himself, a voice that permeates his consciousness and echoes into reality, tearing him from sleep. He always awakes like that, with taunting whispers rippling through him. _Whenever you let your guard down..._

He tries to erase the feeling of another presence inside him, a dark urging to do something... he doesn't know what that something is, but he knows it's something he doesn't want to do. Still, the presence remains, its existence a dark pulse that thrums in tune with his heart.

_Whenever you let your guard down, I will defeat you..._

Cold fingers alight on his shoulder, and he spins around to see nothing. No... there _is_ something. The ice cold presence laughs at him from within his mind as he turns around to see a reflection of himself.

_Whenever you let your guard down, I will defeat you, and trample your skull under my hooves._

He sees himself in the mirror, but the one he sees is not himself. Eyes dyed obsidian blink at him through acid-yellow irises, blazing under a deadly smirk. "Looks like someone's sleepin' on the throne, huh, King? It won't be long until I catch you off-guard..."

He blinks to rid himself of the image, but it's still there, still taunting him with its presence.

"You can't get rid of me just like that. Do whatever you want, but when you come back, I'll still be here. Until that day when I gain control."

An involuntary shudder passes through him. "Go away."

"But you need me, don't you? Look at what you allowed to happen to that black-haired chick! Did you see her face? She was telling you to _run. _Like she needs to protect you. Like she felt she needed to take your blows. And ya know, if that healer girl hadn't been around, the shinigami chick would be dead. 'Cause you couldn't protect her. 'Cause you couldn't stand up and stop that pathetic hybrid freak who messed with her. It would have been all your fault."

"Stop it," he grinds out. _He's right. She would be dead... she'd be dead, and I would have been the one to blame._

"You don't want to hear the truth? Weakling. You are useless. As much as you fight, as much as you train...you will never become strong enough to beat people like _that._ For them, you need me. As much as you deny it, it remains true—just as I remain, and _will_ remain: you are not strong enough without me."

"I'll become strong enough."

"How you fool yourself. Look at that girl—look at her, living, and remember what could have happened."

He hears her breaths, soft feathers of sound against his eardrums, as she sleeps in the closet, mere feet away. He can't imagine those breaths ceasing. The thought of her being gone makes shudders run through him. She continues to breathe, unaware of his struggle.

"See? Remember me, _every time _you see her. I don't care if you got the throne, big guy; it was chance that lent it to you. Chance and luck and stubbornness. Do you care for that girl?"

Ichigo does not reply, staring stubbornly forward.

"You don't have to answer. You should see your frickin' inner world when you're near her. It's pathetically bright and cute. So which is more important to you... your own stubbornness and pride, or her life? One day, you'll have to choose. Your domination as King or her continued existence. It's late, little one, so I'll let you sleep. Think on that, though. Think on it, and remember to stay alive."

The dark presence recedes until he sees himself in the mirror, haggard and worn, terrified. His hair lays messily over wide eyes. When he at last dares to breathe, it comes out in a broken whimper. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to compose himself, allowing a quick look to the slatted closet door when he is no longer shaking so fiercely. Her breaths calm him, but the other's words echo to his mind once more.

If for his efforts alone, she would no longer _be _breathing...

The closet door opens slowly. "Ichigo?" she murmurs sleepily. "What's up?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. You should go back to sleep."

She lets her legs hang down from her perch, slowly dropping to the floor. She steps quietly until she is right behind him, then she sits down. "You're stronger than he could ever be. Don't listen to any lies, okay?"

"But if...that time, if Inoue hadn't..."

"Do you think _I'm _that weak? Do you think I'd dare die? Look, whatever happens _happens_. I'd rather die than watch you give in to that thing inside you. So if it comes down to that, remain as yourself. Because _you_ are the Ichigo I know. To lose that part of you would be a worse thing to me than losing my life. Remember _this, _Kurosaki Ichigo, when you look at me: you are stronger than the hollow inside of you. Otherwise, it would be him in the body I'm looking at. And it's not."

"That's because..."

Rukia growls, pushing him hard in the back. "Come on! I gotta do this again? Look, remember coming to Soul Society? All the things you did there were not done by the coward who's speaking right now. You're scared? I get it!" Her voice softens. "I get it. I'd be scared, too. But this fear of yours is what he's feeding on. I know this won't help you at all, but after that nut has bothered you with his opinions, I might as well bother you with mine."

Ichigo laughs softly.

"You wanna know what I believe?" A pause. "Well, I actually don't care if you wanna know. I'm telling you. I believe that you are strong enough to hold that hollow off. I believe said hollow is an insane bastard, and purely on those grounds, you win. I believe that the only way that you'd _lose_ is by sulking your days away like this, and I also believe I'm gonna beat you to death if you don't lighten up. Soon. _Now. _I don't know how to deal with angsty teenagers and I have no intention of learning."

He flinches, allowing a twisted smirk to cross his face. "You say that, but it's only because your small brain doesn't have any room left inside it."

"More than yours, you brainless wonder!"

"_Who_ failed every subject but Japanese History?" he retorts.

She kicks him, and they both fall silent for a while. It's fine, though... there really isn't anything to say.

A smile slowly creeps over his face. "Rukia..."

_Some day soon, you will be weak, and I will take control..._

"What is it, Ichigo?"

But that day is not today. It's not today, and it won't be tomorrow, either, or the day after that. Not as long as she's here.

"Rukia...thank you."

She smiles, and her voice echoes from somewhere behind him. "Don't mention it," she says.

"I mean it. Thank you for—"

"I meant it, too. As in, _don't mention it_. At all. In case you don't remember—" _yawn _"—your complaining tore me from a sound sleep. So I'm going back to bed now."

She stands, brushing the back of her skirt off and walking regally back to her cramped little closet.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I've had this one in mind for a while, but never got around to writing it, because I just couldn't find a beginning that I was happy with. After re-reading some of the later manga chapters, I got to writing, and...uh...this was the result. I hope it's okay! I liked writing Ichigo's hollow. He was really fun. (And I wonder what Ichigo's inner world really looks like when Rukia's around...) I think, though, that if Ichigo ever gives in completely to his hollow, it will be to save someone. The IchiRuki fangirl in me hopes it might be Rukia. (Or maybe I've just been reading too much fanfiction. That's probably it) **Please Review?**


	6. Never Had She Known

**Never Had She Known**

**Disclaimer/Notes: **The more I read her and write her, the more I love Rukia. I especially love the time of her imprisonment in Soul Society, because there are so many things she could have thought. And I feed on angst. So here are my thoughts on what her thoughts might have been during her imprisonment. LOL, and I promise...as much as this one pretends to be serious, it's really fluff in disguise.

* * *

Never had she known how much she loved him until she knew that she would never see him again. Never had she known what she was missing until it had all been given to her when she'd been with him, and taken away when she'd gone. Never had she known that a soul could feel so cold and shattered and desolate, not out of physical pain, but because of a simple lack of another's presence. Of his presence.

Never had she known that her heart had been carved out and filled with _him_ until he was gone and there was only emptiness where he had been torn away from her.

There were so many things she had never known, that he had shown to her. He had revealed what it meant to be family through the way he saw his sisters. He'd shown that selflessness still existed in human hearts, and that it often existed right alongside intense idiocy and recklessness. Another thing he had given her was laughter. It was a thing she thought she had lost somewhere along the way, buried with her smile, a casualty of real life.

He returned both to her without effort.

More quickly than she could process, he presented _herself _to her. The real her, the one that drew god-awful drawings and spat out words with wry humor, matching any man fist for fist and word for word. That was the her she had been alongside Renji and her other friends in Rukongai. It was the Kuchiki Rukia that had been regretfully laid to rest when she had been adopted into the Kuchiki family. It was the Rukia that was playful and thoughtful, but tough and unyielding.

It was the only way she could be around him, because to be any less than real would kill her inside.

He'd shown her that events in one's past shaped one's life but did not control it. He'd shown her how to let go of one thing so she could hold tightly to another.

Kurosaki Ichigo had revealed everything she had resigned herself never to have, and she hated him, in a way, because she had been so much fuller for those things, so much stronger—but was now that much more empty for knowing the _would-haves _and _could-haves _and _what-ifs_; the life she might have lived if she had been able to live it beside him.

She couldn't say she hated him with a straight face, and if he was right beside her, she couldn't have said it while looking in his eyes, because the truth was that she didn't hate him.

It was true that he'd given her so many things, only to have them taken away. While she remained the same, her soul felt so much more empty than it ever had before.

She couldn't hate him, though, because more than anything, she loved him.

She loved the way he didn't merely talk, but yelled or gesticulated or complained or whispered, as if his soul bled into every word he spoke. She loved how he was so _real _beneath that mask he put on, so _human, _perfect and yet imperfect, a boy older than his years whose pretended indifference cradled a heart that wanted to save everyone. She loved that he was so stubborn, that, when he set his eyes on something, neither hell nor high water could divert him from the path he'd chosen.

He'd dared to show her his heart, and she had obliged by entrusting her own to him, allowing him to unknowingly shatter her defenses like glass until reality broke back into her life, forcing her to pull a cover over her exposed heart and run away.

She'd prayed that he would let her slip out of his world as easily as she had come, prayed that, if nothing else, he'd do that...for her, because she wondered if she could let go of him if he held on to her. He had held on, and it had hurt even more to leave. She left, though, because even if leaving meant leaving him behind, it would mean leaving him alive a little longer. The only thing she could not have borne was watching him die.

_Live, _she murmured in her thoughts, and left so he could.

_Live, _she urged him in her mind, and in doing so, condemned herself to death.

Logic taunted her. _This was what emotion brought. _Would it not have been better to have never felt anything at all?

Would it not be better, now, to let go of everything she'd felt? Because being a shinigami was not about being _dead _in the conventional sense. Being a shinigami was about remaining dead inside. As her soul burned away thinking about things and people she would never see again, she understood why. Emotion really was the surrender of the soul to the body. It killed more effectively than any blade.

Even when she tried to crush down every feeling in her heart, she knew that her feelings for him would remain. Somehow, even if those memories of life would make death more painful, she felt like it would be better to die loving him, in pain, than to die painlessly and in peace, without feeling.

When she thought she had succeeded in feeling nothing, words would whisper to her, or the scent of reiatsu would somehow permeate the thick walls of her prison, giving her hope she didn't need—couldn't feel. But he still remained in her heart, and she hoped even though she hated the feeling, even to the day when her serenity was shattered and rebuilt as she was lifted to the place where she would be executed.

He was the last face she thought of when she thought she would die, and the first face she saw when she didn't. He showed up with that god-awfully perfect timing of his, and there he stood, with the instrument of her death blazing right behind him, dressed to kill and looking like he really thought he could save her. The strange thing was that the more she looked into his eyes, the more she believed it. She wanted to tell him how much of an idiot he was.

Well, she already had. But she wanted to tell him again.

He hadn't listened, and she was happy and sad and pissed off and disbelieving, because how could he even dream of doing something for her when she'd twisted his life so horribly, turning his human existence into a nightmare that brought him into the land of the dead? She couldn't understand him, but there was one thing she did understand. She was glad, so glad, to have seen him again, and so shocked that the carefully buried feelings rose quickly to the surface, thriving in his presence.

Kuchiki Rukia had never known that she could live so fully when she had been at her emptiest only moments before. She had never known that she could love so deeply until the depths were drained in his absence, and refilled by the look in his eyes, by that crazy confidence he radiated.

There were a lot of things she'd never known, but that was okay, because if she had anything at all to say about it, he'd always be there beside her amidst the fists and the insults. He'd always be there to teach her the things she'd never known.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I love IchiRuki! I've been down a lot lately, while writing, because though I love all the pairings I write, I've been afraid to write them because I'm worried that it'll be something that I've already written, or something that someone else has already written. Though everything really _has_ been written before, I hope that maybe this might have been a little bit different. I hope it was fun to read, as well! **Please Review?**


	7. Until We Meet Again

**Until We Meet Again**

_And I carve your name into my tree, and I wrap my heart around your name  
And I took your arrow through my heart... Just to say I love you._

**Disclaimer/Notes: **No owning of Bleach going on here. If I owned it, the typical shounen battles would let up a bit. But... that's exactly why I don't own it, lol. Shounen will be shounen. But this will be _**IchiRuki**_. Mushy gushy IchiRuki fluffiness in which trees, rain and shoes play a major role. So I'm totally okay with just doing fanfiction. This story was written because, with the way the manga's been going on (and _on _and **_on_**) I just needed to do something IchiRuki to satisfy myself. Also, the lyrics quoted above are from Chris Rice's song My Tree, to which I owe the inspiration for finishing this long-unfinished fic. Writer's block is atrocious. (_cries_)

* * *

When he stood in front of her like that, warm eyes wide and disbelieving, she told herself she didn't care one bit that he was here. She told herself she hadn't been waiting for him, hadn't been hoping that maybe, just _maybe, _the stupid idiot would drop in to say a quick hello. She told herself all of that, but she didn't believe one bit of it. She didn't think he did, either.

But then, her acting had never really fooled him. He'd always been able to see right through.

She looked him up and down, at the way his eyes seemed so full of hope and sorrow at the same time, so that the emotions clashed in the gentle colors, and at the way his hair, usually just a little insane—sticking out every which way—had been wet down by the merciless morning moisture. It had started to rain, plastering the vivid strands to his face. He shivered a little bit, his gaze just like his reiatsu—warm, all-encompassing, and slightly crazy. He drew in deep gasps, blinking as if he didn't believe she was standing in front of him. If she didn't know better, she'd say that he looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

And he'd gotten taller, which wasn't fair, because he wasn't even wearing shoes.

Abruptly, she stepped forward, sending a strong kick into his shin, startling him out of his shocked stupor. She supposed it hurt. After all, _she _was wearing shoes. "You _fool!_" she cried. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

He staggered back, defensive. "Wh—what the—?"

She glared. "Idiot! Look at you! You look like you just stumbled out of bed!"

Ichigo seemed to find this slightly amusing, because his mouth turned up the tiniest bit. "I did," he said.

"You—" Rukia growled, stepping back, her feet angrily slapping shallow puddles of water. "That doesn't make it any better! _Why _did you just get out of bed?"

Ichigo said it like it was obvious. "'Cause I felt you here."

She felt her anger soften and melt completely, but she still kept up the facade that she was pissed. Because if she wasn't pissed, what else could she be? Certainly not happy to see him... Yes. Pissed was much safer than other alternatives. "So you walk out, in the _rain_—"

"Run."

Rukia flinched. "—And you... Excuse me?"

"Not walked. Ran."

Rukia felt the strangest urge to burst out laughing, a feeling she hadn't felt in an awful long time. "Such a fool," she murmured, but Ichigo knew as well as she did that she wasn't mad at him anymore. So he kept standing there, clad in a white, long-sleeved shirt and pajama pants, soaked to the bone, yet still as defiant as ever.

He was pouting. Or maybe not quite pouting, but definitely sullen. That lower lip stuck out just the _tiniest _bit, too. He stepped forward, biting his lip gently as both fists clenched together at his sides. Angry. "Why the hell did you take so long? It's been—_months_. For all I knew, you could have gone off and gotten yourself killed! You could have... called—anything to tell me you were still kicking. You're an idiot, that's what you are!"

And she laughed. She couldn't help it. Because he really was pouting. Rain smoothed his crazy hair down, slipping from his face in rivulets. Those amber eyes of his were glaring, the lashes flickering over them to protect them from the falling rain. He hunched over a little bit, breath still coming in slightly labored gasps. His gaze demanded an explanation. He looked just like a child, with his fists clenched like that.

His face turned pink. "Why are you laughing? Why—wait! Are you laughing at me?"

She nodded solemnly. She wondered if he knew how long it had been since she'd laughed like that.

"You're hopeless!" he cried.

She smiled. "It's nice to see you, Ichigo."

That stopped him cold. "Huh?"

"It's been a while. It's nice to see you again."

"Ah—well... you too. I guess. But—where the hell have you been? It's been a while...I mean... I seriously considered cleaning out that closet, you know!"

She could tell he hadn't. "If you say so. You might want to clean it out, still. I'm not...going to be here long."

His face fell, and she hated herself for making him look like that. "How long?"

"A few hours. I have some business to do here, but then I have to go back. I'm really not supposed to stay long. I've been reassigned. They seem to think that my previous post had become too personal. Remember...emotions are a shinigami's worst enemy."

"So...what? You'll still be coming back here, right? Sometimes?"

Rukia shrugged. "I'm afraid that's not very likely. I've been warned of the rules concerning situations...like this one."

Ichigo shook his head. "I don't care about rules."

Rukia nodded. "I know. But I have to follow them."

Ichigo's expression suddenly darkened. "Byakuya!"

This time, her nod was slower. "He...was the one who made the recommendation. He was doing what he thought was in my best interests, Ichigo."

"No he wasn't," Ichigo grumbled. "He was doing what pleased him. Twisting those damn rules to his liking."

"Stop it, Ichigo."

He scowled. "That stuck-up little—"

"_Stop_ it, Ichigo! I can't be here for long, and I don't want to spend all my time here listening to you ranting. I broke those rules to come here. I lied about having business in Karakura."

"What?"

"I lied. To Nii-sama. To the powers that be in Soul Society. So shut up, I'll kill you if you ruin this."

Several moments passed in which the only sound was the patter of the rain against concrete. "So...where do we go?"

"Nowhere we've been before. Just somewhere."

She saw him there, soaked, and got angry all over again. If he got pneumonia and died right after she left, today, she'd seek him out in Soul Society and kill him again.

"Come on," he said, and she looked up at him.

"Where are we going?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Just come on. There's not enough time to waste it thinking. Somewhere. Wherever."

So she started walking with him. At first, they followed the park's concrete paths, but after a while, Ichigo stepped off of them and they wandered through the grass for a while, between benches and a fountain overflowing with water from the rain. Everywhere she looked, gentle light reflected off of puddles. Grass licked wet trails down the bare skin that her shihakushou didn't cover. The rough black cloth that contrasted against the pale colors of his bed clothes only reminded her of the distance between them.

And some people thought _they_ had it hard. At least their significant other wasn't in another freakin' dimension.

He stopped so abruptly that she almost ran into him.

"It's a tree," she said.

He cast a glare in her direction. "Oh? I didn't notice," he murmured. "Come on. It'll get us out of the rain."

He was right, Rukia learned, after standing out in the downpour for five minutes just to spite him. He pretended not to care. He got to the point of threatening bodily harm before she gave up—it wasn't much fun—and walked under the shelter of the tree. Emerald green summer leaves made a thick, nearly flawless shelter. Only the occasional drop made it through, spiraling down countless leaves before landing at last on her nose or forearm.

It was nice here. The rain had quieted to a soft, gentle whisper of sound. Her hair stirred with a soft breeze, and she looked over at Ichigo. He looked as brooding and serious as ever. Rukia waited. At last, he spoke.

"So... you're really leaving."

She nodded.

He flinched, like maybe he'd been hoping really hard that she'd yell something like, _"April fools!"_

"How long?"

"If Nii-sama has anything to say about it, forever."

"And does he?"

Rukia smiled wistfully. "Most of the time."

"So... what?" Ichigo said. "What now?" His voice was dry. His eyes were closed, head pointed in the direction of the leaf-obscured sky.

"What do you mean, what now? You go back to your normal life as a human. Forget being a shinigami. Another will be assigned to this area. You're strong enough to protect the people you care about, now. Your family will stay safe. I know they will."

Ichigo swore harshly. "It's not them I'm worried about, idiot!"

He seemed just about as surprised as he was that he had just blurted that out.

Rukia felt her cheeks color. She waited several extra moments before replying. "Oh." Then, lamely, she said, "I'll be fine." After a pause, she murmured, "I've been fine for a freakin' century, you dope."

Fine, she had been. She'd been fine like when people asked the obligatory question _how are you?,_ and you just said, _fine... _because you were caught in between intentional indifference and total apathy, never bad, never good, always fine.

"I'll be fine," she repeated softly.

But she didn't fool herself, and she didn't fool him. The kind of fine she had once been was not the kind she ever wanted to be again.

"Rukia," he said softly. "Come here."

Neither of them minded when she sat close to him, silently watching the rain. Rukia was sure that her face was flushed a bright pink, and she had an impulsive urge to call him a fool and an idiot and an incompetent, unprepared, reckless buffoon, just to get her mind off the fact that she was close enough to feel the warmth from his body. Ichigo dug in his pants pocket and pulled something out. It looked like a small, almost rectangular piece of red plastic. Rukia had become well-aquainted with plastic and its wonderfully fun relative, rubber, while visiting the human world. "What is it?" she said.

"A pocket knife."

"Oh? It looks rather pathetic."

"My mom gave it to me when I was little. She told me back then that I was a big boy and could use it to protect myself." He laughed. "Of course I believed her."

"You gonna threaten me with it?"

"No."

"Then...?"

"You're going to write your name with it."

"Creepy. Explain?"

Ichigo turned around. "This tree. I'm gonna carve my name and you're gonna do yours. Sorta like a promise that you're not gonna get yourself killed before you drag yourself back here. And that this isn't gonna be some stupid_ forever_-sort-of-goodbye."

Rukia nodded.

Ichigo set to writing his name, carving it into the smooth bark of the tree, and handed the old blade to Rukia when he was done. She put her name close, close beneath his, so that the letters touched just a little. Ichigo nodded firmly. He traced a heart around the names, and Rukia noticed that he blushed just a little. She wondered why.

"People do that, sometimes," he explained nervously. He looked down for a moment and snapped the small knife's blade back into place. "So that's a promise, right?"

"It's a promise."

They sat close together with a heart wrapped around their names right above them, and neither of them spoke, but both knew what the other was feeling.

"I have to go now, Ichigo," Rukia said.

He nodded, and she wished she'd never met him, because she hated seeing him so sad with only a pathetic, pasted-on smile keeping it from showing. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You know, if you don't come back after a while, I'm gonna raid Soul Society looking for you."

She didn't ask why because she knew he wouldn't be able to answer. Some things were said and understood without words, and it was just fine that way.

Rukia had always felt groundless, dead, and indifferent, but as she walked out from under the tree, the sun shone down through the clouds, indicating that the storm had passed them by at last, and she felt much, much more than plain-old fine. It felt like there was something to return to. She gave the orange-haired boy a final, discreet glance—she sure wasn't going to let him know that she was looking at him—and walked down the hill, already thinking about the _next time _she had promised to him and carved into a tree. Next time. She liked how it sounded.

"Until then," she said.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I started writing this a while ago, but was unable to finish it. Argh, the manga has been dragging on _so much _lately! I haven't read the latest few chapters... mostly just skimmed. I wish Rukia would come back in! There's just been non-stop fighting lately. Heh, don't get me wrong, I love fighting, but it sure has been going on for a while. And when you finally think you'll get a reprieve... _a new opponent_. I'm about to lose it. Anyway, I just had to do some nostalgic IchiRuki because of major Ichigo x Rukia withdrawals, lately. I hope this was okay! Any thoughts would be appreciated so much. **Please Review?**


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